Archive for the ‘Hilly on Love’ Category

My Worst Date Ever!

October 17th, 2008

There’s this “meme” going around the wide wide world of web right now…about your worst date!   I could have sworn that I wrote this post already but after repeatedly digging through my archives, I gave up and decided to write it again…or maybe for the first time.  Hrm, either way…

Back when I was about 29 or so, I was heavily doing the Yahoo Personals thing.  I know, I know…just that thought alone makes you cringe, right?  Well, one day I met this guy named Tom.  Okay, when I say “met”, I mean that I talked to him online and had copious amounts of chat and email time with good ol’ Tom.  He seemed normal, compared to a lot of the other sex freaks that kept poking at my profile.  He said all of the right things, made me laugh, and also convinced me that he would be worthy of a date.  Now, when I say that, it is not as if I thought I was the total shit back then but hey, I was in my late twenties and was not wasting time on men that didn’t pique my interest more than “just a little”.

After about a month or so, we made a plan to meet in Old Sacramento, a place where you could do a myriad of things all while walking around. I have no idea what made me pick the place other than it was very public. In retrospect it was stupid because hi…summer in Sacramento? Yeah, pretty effing hot to be walking around outside.  In any case, my first warning bell went off when he told me that he had to take the light rail to drop his kids with their mom then meet me in Old Sac…why, you ask?  You see, he had told me about him having a car but had not told me about having kids.  Uh, so where did the car go and how did the kids get here?  However, I let it go because I do have a tendency to be nitpicky.  After waiting for him in ye old schoolhouse playground, he finally showed up and I have to say, from the moment I saw him coming towards me, I wanted to go home.  Sure he was way more hefty than in his pictures, but that didn’t bug me (except the lies).  Also, when he said he had earrings and tatoos, I did not know they were going to be dorky and lame, making him this icky poser.  No no, it was the fact that he showed up with grease-stained armpits and food all over his shirt.  And he smelled.  I mean, I could not walk behind him or stand too close to him in any of the stores.  He was that disturbingly stinky.  While I am aware that I have a really sensitive nose, still…this dude needed some help.

So, being the kind person that I am, we walked and talked a bit until I just could not take it anymore.  When dusk finally fell, I asked him if he wanted a ride home.  Dude, I didn’t even make up an excuse or anything…just “So, I have to go.  Want a ride?”  We hopped in my Geo Metro (yes, I was rollin a sweet ride back then, uh huh) and I drove him 30 minutes home to Rancho Cordova.  However, I did not take him home…I took him to a bar.  Yes, my date had me drop him off at a bar that uh, also served as a place where women could shake their sugar bumps for cash.  What a tool.  Anyway, as I am sitting there in the parking lot with him, my mind is reeling…”get out of my car, get out of my car, get out of my car” and yet he still kept talking.  And then it happened.  He leaned in to kiss me and I pushed him away as I almost threw up a little bit in my mouth.  His breath?  Not much better than the rest of him!  When I refused to kiss him, he used things that I had told him in chat against me (like the fact that I had not had sex in 3 years because I was waiting for it to mean something again).  He called me frigid, a prudish bitch, and said that I was doomed to be lonely if I didn’t let my walls down and let him in.  Hahaha, he was probably right about me needing to let my walls down but I think he meant my SUGAR WALLS and no thanks.  This guy’s manipulation was not working.  Finally I kicked his ass out of my car then drove home with my window down.

The next day, as I was driving up to El Dorado Hills for a work picnic, I noticed a strangeness coming from the passenger side of my car.  You know, just a glance out of the corner of my eye.  It was then that I realized that Tom had left a big huge greasey smear on my passenger side door window where his gross head had been.  I mean, it was really big and slimy!

From that day forward, he was called Captian Grease Stain!  Whenever I tell the story or refer to people that are super stinky stanky, I bring up good old Captain Grease Stain…my worst date ever!

Super Sniffer Kisses,
Me

Posted in Hilly on Love, Hilly's Story Time, In The Past | Comments (25)

A Thousand Ways To Woo A Lover So Sincere…

August 8th, 2008

Today’s post is brought to you by the letter “R” for “Reader’s Choice”.  You see, more than a few of my friends are in that “newly dating” stage and they have questions!   Some are recently divorced after heinous 10 year marriages that went south, some have lost a bunch of weight and don’t know how to handle their new found hotness, while others have just plain decided that it is time to get back on that horse again.  And yet….they all want to know the same thing:  why in the hell does it seem like no matter how much we women don’t want to play games, we have to because to do otherwise would cause a man to go screaming into the night?  In fact, one person is so verkelmpt over this issue that she specifically asked if I could make this a post topic since I’m less afraid to ask these questions than she is!  Who am I to run from a challenging subject?

I was reminded that I wanted to talk about this yesterday when I was flipping through the channels and landed on Roswell for a moment.  The girl, Liz Parker, was writing in her diary about her deep love and obsession for Max, the alien.  She said:

What did he mean when he said, “I’ll see you in school”?  Did he mean, “I won’t be able to breathe until we meet again” or was it just something someone says…to like, fill space.  And what is he thinking right now? Is he also obsessed, tortured, going from one sleepless night to the next wondering what’s gong to happen between us?

Then they cut to a scene of him sleeping so heavily that he was drooling and snoring.  And I thought to myself, “Ha….totally!”.  She was completely obsessing over whether or not he was thinking of her and uh, he was sleeping.  I’m not making this about gender or anything like that; it just happens that in *this* instance, he was the one who was clearly *not* stressed out about it.

It’s like that a lot, isn’t it?  One person “seems” to be more into the other, but how can you really tell?  For arguments sake, let’s just say some people who seem aloof actually spend way too much time pretending not to care in an effort not to be exposed or get hurt, I guess.  On the flip side, other people care too much and way too quickly because they’re in love with the *idea* of love, yet not the actual person.

Truth be told, I’m a bit rusty when it comes to all of this stuff, however I seem to be giving out dating advice like kisses lately.  One thing…or rather *theme* that I have come across is this: more often woman want to have the “where is this relationship headed” talk than the men do.  I blame this on our eternal need for nesting (and our predilection for obsessing).   My advice, more often than not, is to just let that shit go until they are sure the man they are dating is ready.  I find myself telling them to wait it out and just enjoy what they have before he eventually comes around.  After I recently gave that advice to someone she said to me, “Isn’t it sad that men hate it when we play games but it is their causal and aloof attitudes that often force us to play them just so we won’t get dumped before they realize just how amazing we really are?”.

I pondered that for a moment and wondered if I had been truly advising my friend to play a game or if my intention was to just help her in the self-preservation arena.  You see, I’ve never been one for playing games but still…I now wonder if protecting oneself counts as a game or not?  Where is that line in the sand?  What counts as a game versus what counts as common sense?  Hell, why can’t we just all be honest with each other about exactly how we feel rather than all this other bullshit?  Yeah, I know…idealistic much?

One thing that sucks is that some people tend to do is pretend that the person they are dating means a lot less to them than they actually do.  Mostly it’s women (but sometimes men) who study their new partner and learn when to move forward, when to pull back, when to seem aloof and when to let you know that they care.  Some people view this as a game, but I am here to tell you that in this day and age, it almost seems like a necessary evil.  I find myself giving the same advice a lot….to pull back and just chill so that the person comes to *them* without pressure.  But is that playing games or is that just knowing how to read people and having found a niche in human nature?  When does self-preservation become a game?  When does knowing when to fold ‘em and when to hold ‘em scooch over that dangerous line of being lame game central?

I always thought games were more deliberate.  I never gave out ultimatums.  I never pressured anyone by saying “I love you” if I knew that they did not love me too.  I never demanded anyone’s time.  I never made up scenarios for the man I was dating to come to my rescue.  I never found a way to make him stop seeing more than one person until he was ready.  I’m sure that I never played a game with a man, yanno…after my early 20’s ended.

But I ask you…those little things that we do, like pulling back so the other person is less scared, not bringing up a topic so as not to scare someone away, pretending to be aloof when all we want to do is breathe someone in…..are these things games or just a way to protect ourselves from getting hurt?  My guess is that it would be in the intention, just like everything else.  If someone says, “Oh I am so not calling him for days and you watch….he’ll come running!”, then that is kind of evil.  It’s like pre-meditated asshattery, if you ask me.  But if someone says, “I am just giving him some space and trying not to be needy” then I have no problem with it.  Ha, seriously…is it the same thing in the end?  And for the record, I’ve been married for 5 years so yanno, I’m asking this from a whole weird and different viewpoint.

Anyway, please help out the daters and chime in….do you think games are necessary or under no circumstances, no matter how small, are they acceptable?

Dear Abby Kisses,
Me

Posted in Confused Hilly, Curious Hilly, Hilly on Love | Comments (22)

Reality Bites….

July 24th, 2008

When I said “I do”, I assumed that it would be forever.  I wasn’t a virgin but I wore white.   I felt that it was completely acceptable considering the fact that this felt like the “first time” finally feeling something greater than myself.  This was the happiest day of my life.  I remember feeling like the rest of the world had absolutely nothing on me.  No one could harm me.  Nothing could touch me.  I was invincible.  No, *we* were invincible.

I don’t know how it all fell down and went boom.  I really don’t.

There are a million things that I can blame on myself and maybe a hundred that I can blame on him.  I know that it takes two people to make or break a marriage but I’m telling you right now…I can’t fix whatever part of us broke inside of me no matter how hard I try.  And believe you me, I’m still trying even though it seems like a moot point these days.  It would be easier to not feel like a failure.  It would be simpler to have everything back to the way it was, or at least a new and improved version of that.  And honestly, I’d be a much better Hilly if I could throw away the box that contains my broken heart and start with a fresh one.

But that’s not realistic and besides, this hand-stitched yet crooked patchwork heart is what makes me well…me.

People keep asking me what’s going on with me lately and why I seem so down and “not myself”.  Other people joke about the increasingly cryptic nature of my blog posts.  I felt that it was time to come out of my secret garden and at least admit to you that one of the huge things that is going on right now in my life is this junk.  I don’t want to go into the details or exact nature because some of that stuff is just too private.  I fail to write about it here a lot because not only do I feel it is disrespectful to Shawn but also because I have in-laws that read this blog and well, you know.  Lastly, it’s too confusing and “back and forth” half of the time, as I guess all decisions of this nature can be.

Just when I think we’ve reached a point where I know what is going to happen, the road turns.  Then it turns again and again and again.  I just want to get off the merry go round of indecision and unhappiness and start living my life, no matter what that means.  I’m sleepwalking through my life, no matter how vibrant and fun-loving I seem on the outside.  I’ve gained a ton of weight that everyone is too polite to talk about…but we all know it’s true.  The weight gain is a hugely symbolic of my emotional state, FYI.  I’ve always lost really rapidly when I am happy and done exactly the opposite when I am not.  I’d also like to figure out a way to not wallow in self pity at the buffet table but that’s another post for another day.

The other day, Shawn paid off all of our debts.  He also paid off my car.  When all of that happened, it was decided that we need to finalize all of this once and for all.  Since Karl is here, the discussion was tabled until mid August when Shawn comes back from GenCon.  At first, I was opposed to the idea of having to decide everything right this second but when it comes down to it, I really need to learn how to rip off my band aids and just figure out what the hell I want out of my life.  I’m actually looking forward to this caucus as much as he is now…even though the answers all scare the living shit out of me.

So there you have it…nothing cryptic at all.  I feel so far out of my comfort bubble right now that I can literally feel my skin crawl.  You know what though?  I judge others for never being able to leap and yet here I sit, stuck in a moment or maybe even twenty.  It’s time to get real, live through the pain, and move forward…let’s just hope I can.

Simple Kisses,
Me

Posted in Emotional Diatribes, Hilly on Love, Hilly's Life 2008 | Comments (54)

Forgive Me Love, If I Cry In Your Shower…

June 9th, 2008

Sometime around the middle of last week, I lost it.

I was sitting at my computer, not even paying attention to the words on my screen when my mind drifted off to a very forbidden place filled with tabu emotions and fruitless desires.  As I realized that I was treading down a path where I’d promised my heart we wouldn’t go, I rapidly snapped myself back into the land of firm reality.  Unfortunately, I think I sped back from my daydream way too quickly, causing a major traffic accident between my heart and my soul.

Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed.  You know the kind of crying where you just can’t catch your breath no matter how hard you try?  My immediate instinct was to dash off to the kitchen to find my phone and call Karl, and that is exactly what I did.  Although I don’t remember the exact words that came out of my mouth, I know that they centered around confusion, pain, and the fear of utter loneliness.  We only talked briefly as it was one of those moments that Karl is all too familiar with….one where I don’t need him to say all of the right words, but rather to listen while I cry.   And he did. Within five minutes of hanging up, this was dropped into my Gmail Inbox:

Just wanted to say that I know you can do anything. You’re one of the strongest people I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, of course.

Love you,
K

And yes yes, let’s all take a moment to gush over how sweet my best bud is but after that, there’s a point I want to make.  When I read that email, I actually thought to myself, “Yes I am strong. I can indeed do anything and everything if I just put one foot in front of the other, dammit!“.  And so, this being a truth that I was vehemently sold on, I began to wonder then, why the hell I had been hysterically lost just minutes before.  Don’t get me wrong…you all know that I think crying and getting those emotions out are fucking awesome but why so damned hysterical?

Then it hit me…..

I’d not been stuffing my emotions with food for a few days.  Actually, I’d not stuffed them with booze either.  I’d decided to dedicate myself to losing weight this time, no matter what came my way and in doing so, the voids weren’t getting filled up before I could truly feel them.  It was like this huge beacon of light came down from heaven above and I said, “Puhraiiiise Jayyy-zus!” because I finally understood what I had been doing to myself all of these years.

Later, I recounted this emotional upheaval to yet another good friend and in talking to him about it, I had this huge epiphany!  I just want to live in every emotion, breathe it in, deal with feelings as they come and be completely in real moments rather than walking through life avoiding it all by stuffing it with one thing or the other.  Whether it be blissful elation that makes my whole being sing or gut-wrenching pain that seems to physically break my heart, I want to actually be in my own moments, for Christ’s sake.*  I know that it won’t always be easy….in fact, it probably will be more difficult than anything else but I’m ready to grow up just a little bit more and handle this shit!  So we’re back to me living my life to its fullest and beaming at the fact that I know life needs to be about so much more than “settling”.  Mediocrity is no longer an option. Life needs to be lived happily, not just surviving….fucking living. (When did I turn into Lance Armstrong?).

In any case, I’ll step down off of my rose-colored soapbox now.  If you’ve read this whole thing, you’ve just taken a trip into the madness of my mind….please grab a mint on the way out.  Oh, and one last thing?  Making the decision to live through those emotions without food as a weapon turned out to be a very good thing.  My official Jenny Craig weight loss for my first week back on the program was a total of 8.4 pounds! Who’s the big winner? I am, thanks!

Waxing Prosaic Kisses,
Me

* If I take the Lord’s name in vain one more time today, I may get struck down.

Posted in Emotional Diatribes, Hilly On A Tangent, Hilly on Love | Comments (34)

Let’s Take One More Rocket To The Moon….

April 10th, 2008

I often wonder why it is so hard for people to say "I love you" to one another.  It’s not as if those words only come in one size or color.  It’s not always the type of love that’s about endless passion, marriage and dirty diapers, commitment of two hearts, or anything else that might scare the shit out of people.  The flavors of love are intense and as varied as the heavenly freezer cases at Baskin Robbins.  Like water, love can be shallow or it can be deep.  The beauty of it is that once you allow yourself to say to someone, "You know what?  I love you.", you feel free and just a little bit happier to be alive.

Yet still, love is one funny animal.  Something that always seems to "cock-block" love is fear and I’m still confused about whether or not true love can even conquer that fear.  I mean, *I* think it can but I’m an optimist who probably should apply my rampant cynicism to love just like I do to the rest of my emotional panel but I just can’t.  I know some people that have a right to be scared of love in all forms…I’ve heard their stories and played their records.  But the thing is…love is the most amazing emotion in the universe and to pass on it is a true shame.

I’ve just been emotionally overwhelmed this last week and have been thinking about how much love I have for people.  When I was thinking about how I could possibly describe it all, I realized that I can’t.  I realized that it would be easy to tell some people exactly why I love them and how much they mean to me.  But then, for just an instant, I was gripped by fear at how others would react to the honesty that just spews from within.  It’s amazing how much you can learn about someone else in the split second that you realize you may not be so different from them after all.

Love can make your heart hurt with joy but it can also make your heart hurt with confusion and fear.  In either case, I’m just glad that my heart hurts tonight….it means I’m human and fallible after all.

Glycerine Kisses,
Me

Posted in Hilly on Love | Comments (28)